The Ritual

I sat on the sofa where I’d been when I had called Alex. Now, I sat trying to catch my breath. What the hell had just happened. Did I have a date? The first in over 4 years. Fuck only the third I’d actually been on? Really.

My heart was beating so fast I thought it might crash through my ribcage any second. I closed my eyes thought about the things in my apartment, five things I could see – my orange peach striped comforter, Ophelia lying on her pillow, the New York City skyline on my wall, there was the seasons tree on the opposite wall, and the book I was reading sitting on the top of the glass table top of my coffee table in front of me.

Four things I could hear, the sound of my breath in my lungs, the pounding of my heart, the steady hum of the runic magic that made my place what it was and the slow steady drip of the kitchen sink. Fee must have nudged the handle again as she scaled the counters.

Three things I could touch – the rough texture of my jeans, the smooth glass of the table, and the stiff stringy hair of Ophelia as she climbed into my lap. My fingers automatically moving along her spine to her ears where she loved to be scratched.

Two things I could smell. Coffee brewing and the lingering smell of bacon from yesterday’s breakfast.

One thing I could taste – coffee. I really needed another cup of coffee. I shifted Fee to the side and stood up and walked into my kitchen. I turned the faucet off and the dripping immediately stopped – while it had been a good sound a moment ago it would drive me nuts soon. I poured another cup of coffee and started another pot. I had a lot to do and I didn’t want to run out of coffee.

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